Snow Runs Red
by Sora Blade707
Summary: It was an old gift from England during the Cold War. Fluff, US x UK


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia.

**Warning:** Language, boy love, kissing, interchanging names

**Pairing:** US x UK

**England:** You're a bloody fool for doing ANOTHER one. :/

**Me:** The…battle is…not…yet…over…:dies:

**America:** …Are you okay, Ryuu-chan?!

* * *

Alfred sighed and wiped the sweat off of his forehead absently. Finally, he had finished cleaning his house. The blond American grinned, hoping that Arthur wouldn't complain about how "immaculate" he (Alfred) was. He put away his cleaning supplies just as the doorbell rang. Another grin broke out on Alfred's face as he closed the door to the cleaning closet and ran to the front door.

"HI ARTHUR!" he shouted while giving the smaller nation a tight embrace. Arthur spluttered and blushed, but returned the embrace gently. After that, Alfred pulled his partner inside, acting all the while like a puppy. The American knew that the Englishman wouldn't have him any other way.

"By the way, Alfred, what's that on the desk?" Arthur asked when they sat down on the couch. The younger nation gave him a confused look but glanced to the object that was pointed out. Alfred stood, walked over to the desk, grabbed the object, and went back to his seat.

In the American's hand was a necklace. The silver charm dangling from the black chord was in the shape of an interlaced double Triquetra. It had been a gift from Arthur during the Cold War. The charm was to protect Alfred's spirit, according to the Wicca faith.

"…That war was a bloody mess," Arthur whispered as he looked at the necklace in Alfred's hand. The American nodded, lost in his memories.

_The Cold War was practically hell on earth for America. He sighed and growled at himself. Russia had gone a bit too far by threatening England. Of course, said threatened nation hadn't been in the room when the threat was spoken. Only America and Canada had been in the room. The threat was…enough to make the American's brother to sit on him in order to restrain him from killing (literally) the other nation._

"_Bastard! If you so much as _touch_ him you're dead!" America had said._

"_And he won't be the only one killing you," Canada had added, his fury only barely kept restrained. Russia had merely laughed innocently and left the two brothers alone._

Sheesh, that was about a month ago, too._ America thought as he laid his arm across his eyes. His glasses were in his other hand, although they were threatening to fall to the ground. He was just so tired. Still, it was worth the energy if it meant keeping England safe._

_Actually, most of his time was spent making sure that England was never alone. Out of desperation, he had enlisted the help of other countries to protect the Englishman, namely France, Germany, China, and Japan. Canada and America had all ready been trying their best to keep him safe, but it was taking a huge toll on the American's energy, which was why they needed the help._

Damn it, I need sleep badly…but I can't. I could be called at any time…especially considering the damn crisis we're having in Cuba._ America sighed as he closed his eyes. His glasses hit the floor, but he no longer cared what happened to them. He just wished that the Cold War would be over soon. America had no idea how much more he could take._

_Despite that, there was still England's situation. The older nation was getting suspicious and was making it difficult to keep an eye on him. He just wasn't able to find the courage to tell England what the hell was going on; why it was so important that he was safe. America was terrified (he would admit that only when he was alone) that he would forever lose the older nation if he spoke his inner feelings. All of it frustrated and tired him._

Almost makes me wish I were dead…_ America thought despairingly. Last week's meeting was just a terror. America and Russia had given it a tense atmosphere, instead of a usually calm and semi-cheerful one. Yes, the Cold War was really starting to get the better of the two nations. It was obvious that their violence was barely restrained and even North Italy wasn't his normal perky self (actually, he had resorted to scooting closer to Germany while the South got closer to Spain)._

_Needless to say, the meeting was finished earlier than usual. Russia had bid them all farewell with cheer and fake innocence. Canada and America had hung back to walk with England out of the building. The Englishman said nothing as he walked between the North American brothers. Eventually, he spoke._

_"All right. Fess up and don't play cute with me. What in heaven's name has gotten into you two?! You've been acting like a pair of bears protecting a cub!" England hissed at them, annoyance plainly written on his features. America's tired blue eyes met Canada's worried ones, and the American sighed._

_"Sorry, old man, but—" the taller nation was cut off when someone started calling his name. America sighed and his control slipped for a moment, showing the other two nations just how much the war was hurting the young man. He regained it a second later and plastered a cheerful smile on his face. "Sorry, boss needs me, I'm guessing."_

_With that, America waved at the two and walked toward the attendant, none of his usual bounce present. England and Canada were both very worried for him, yet the young blond had not noticed their concern._

_"…Arthur, please trust on this one…please, if only for his peace of mind," Canada whispered to the Englishman. England merely nodded, not truly trusting his voice. They were both shook up by what they had just witnessed by America._

_A knock on the door interrupted America's thoughts. He sighed. Really, the last thing America needed was company. Still, it was rude to not say anything when he was obviously home._

_"Come on in! The door's open!" the young American called cheerfully. In all honesty, he could care less if Russia walked through that door and killed him. He heard the door open and close softly. America also heard muffled footsteps, and they sounded a little familiar._

_"…Bloody git. What if I were some would-be assassin, huh? Then where would you be?" America smiled, knowing exactly who was with him._

_"I'd be dead, of course. Although, I feel dead, so I don't think it'd matter much," he retorted, but his heart wasn't in it. England must have sensed that, since he didn't say anything after that. Instead, he sat down at the edge of the couch and pulled America's arm off of his eyes. Emerald green met sapphire blue, and America could have sworn he felt electricity between them._

_"You look like hell," England pointed out, and America couldn't help but crack a genuine grin. Damn, he really must be tired if he thought _that_ was funny. Still, America felt that he had needed it._

_"Great. I've always wanted to look like that!" the blond American replied before sighing. England caught the sigh and frowned._

_"…All right. You're taking a nap, no ifs, ands, or buts," he said with a glare that could be translated to "I'm not taking no for an answer, git." America smiled softly, knowing when to throw in the towel when it came to England._

_The Englishman stood up and held out his hand to help the younger nation up. America gladly accepted it and the two ascended the stairs. England helped him into bed, which was when America finally noticed that the older nation had the look of someone who had come off of the plane and went immediately to America's house._

_"Ah, ah! You, too, old man," America said tiredly before the other man left the room, "You look like hell, too."_

_England sighed and shook his head in exasperation. Still, he rummaged through America's dresser and pulled out a random shirt. Then, the Englishman left to get changed in the bathroom connected to America's room. He waited patiently for England to return, and wasn't disappointed when the Englishman got back into his room._

_"…That's a good look for you," the younger nation teased as the other man slipped into bed with him. The white shirt was incredibly baggy on England, easily going down to mid-thigh in length. England blushed a little and glared._

_"Oh, shut up," England muttered. America smiled again, deeply appreciating that the older nation had visited._

_"…Night, England," he said sleepily. The young man hadn't even caught the reply before drifting off into a peaceful sleep, the first one he had had in weeks. It took a little longer for England to sleep, especially since America had somehow been able to hug the shorter man close to his body._

_When America next woke up, nobody was in bed, yet he could smell tea brewing somewhere in the house. He smiled and sat up, his hair messier than usual. Then the blond noticed that there was a box on his bedside table. Curious, America put on his glasses and picked up the box, which had a sticky note on it._

_"Just something I picked up for you. It's supposed to protect the spirit._

_-England"_

_The young nation's smile got wider, touched that the other had cared about him so much. He opened the box and took out the black chord necklace. The silver, interlaced double Triquetra shined in the afternoon light and looked more like an antique than anything else. America put it around his neck, the cold metal quickly starting to get warm from his body heat. Afterward, he went downstairs to see if England needed any help._

"I forgot I took that off," Alfred said, breaking the silence that lapsed between the two. He smiled at his partner and slipped it around his neck. Arthur rolled his eyes, but he was obviously very pleased that he was taking the charm fairly seriously. "Thanks for getting this for me."

"…It was nothing," Arthur replied, slightly surprised at the thanks he was getting. The young American grinned and placed a chaste kiss on the Englishman's lips.

"Really, it's probably the second best gift I've ever gotten."

"Oh, yeah? And what's the best gift you've ever had, then?" the blond Englishman seemed only a little hurt that the charm was only second best. Alfred's grin then turned mischievous.

"Why, you're the best gift I could ever have," Alfred then kissed him again, only that time it was a lot less innocent.

_End_


End file.
